Reflections
by FandomFangirlForever123
Summary: 1 year after the Battle of Hogwarts, a Memorial Service is being held at the school. Today, people will crowd around the grounds and mourn. Today, people will look at the stone bearing names, and remember. Remember the dead. Remember that, 1 year ago, their lives had changed forever. Suck at summaries! R&R please!
1. Hermione

May 2nd, 1999. One year after Voldemort fell. One year after our hunt for the horcruxes finished. One year after the battle of Hogwarts. One year after the 2nd Wizarding War ended.

One year after everything changed.

Our previous... expeditions... were all typical fairy-tail-ish style. And we expected it to finish that way. We never said that out loud, of course.

We all expected Harry to defeat Voldemort quickly and easily, few lives lost and a poor excuse of a battle. We then would walk away victorious and elated. But that was far from the truth.

The devastating truth.

Voldemort didnt go down fast at all. It took all year: sometimes we were on the brink of just giving up: again, no one said that out loud.

The number of innocent lives lost was horrific. After the battle, the once pristine grounds of Hogwarts was strewn with bodies: some with growing pools of blood forming a gruesome halo around their chest.

The damage done to the historical school was outrageous. Whole towers had collapsed and now were brick heaps on the floor. And when I looked around at the classrooms, the majority of them were completely and utterly obliterated.

The Gryffindor common room wad a mess. The squashy armchairs around the fire where Ron, Harry and I would talk and laugh with unbelievable innocence were ripped and smashed into barely distinguishable shreds.

The planks of wood that were once a staircase that led to the girl's dormitories were wobbly and I was forced to balance precariously as I edged across. When I finally reached stable ground, I checked out the dormitory that was once my Hogwarts home. Now I wish I hadn't.

I didn't cry at the collapsed bricks that lay on the castle grounds. I didn't cry at the destroyed classrooms (shocker, I know), I didn't even cry at the ruins of the common room!

But I did cry at the remains of my 2nd home.

I immediently knew which bed was mine. It was easy: The middle one. I had once thought it was the biggest; the one with the extra-comfy mattress; the one with fluffy pillows: the one who's material was the brightest. When I had discovered that all of them were identical, I had briefly considered switching beds, but I had become attatched to my beloved bed. So I stayed.

It had been my home for 5-6 odd years. I still remember those sleepless nights when I would creep out of bed and sit next to the large window. I would stare out at the luminous crescent moon and the pinpoint stars, sparkling like dots of glitter. It had been so peaceful and soothing. I had missed those nights dearly during the Horcrux Hunt.

The sky had almost always been clouded over with dull grey clumps. And when the sky had been clear, just brilliant - a new moon night and no stars to be seen. But there was that one special night in the Forest of Dean.

Unable to sleep, I had snuck out and leaned against a sturdy-looking oak tree. I had glanced upwards, bracing myself for another moonless and starless night, when the full moon smiled down at me and little stars danced around with joy.

Nowadays, I can't bear to look at the night sky, for it brings back memories of lost innocence and the childhood I miss greatly. Maybe one day I will look at the night sky and remember how lucky I am to be alive. Maybe one day I will look at the night sky and remember happiness, remember peace, remember love.

But for now, that day will have to wait.


	2. Harry

This is it. The big one. The one we've all been waiting for.

I choke back a chuckle, knowing today isn't the right day to do so. My eyes well up with tears as I remember Fred, who died in the battle, and George, the lone remaining Weasley twin.

Today would be the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. The atmosphere in the Burrow was tense and grief-filled. Mrs Weasley was sniffling in the corner, comforted by Mr Weasley. Hermione, ever the prepared, had already left for Hogwarts. Ron and I left her alone. We knew she needed the privacy.

Ron was still tall, lanky and freckled, but he had a new sense of age and maturity in his aura. It was strange to see the ever-hungry chess fanatic like that, but I knew I would be like that too.

My palms began to sweat. I could feel my skin heat up. I'm not ready for this! I wanted to scream. But I couldn't let everyone down. So I marched robotically alongside Ron, who gave me a sympathetic smile. He knew how I was feeling.

The instant I stepped outside I was hit with a burst of colour. In the burrow, the air was filled with sadness and so all the colours were dull and mournful as well.

But in the overgrown garden, all the shades of colour were so bright and happy. There was not a cloud in the azure blue sky. I could hear small gnome feet thudding against the soft grass.

It was still very early in the morning. The sun cast a orange-yellow glow on the grassy ground, which was covered with a blanket of dew. The air was cool and chilly, and when I breathed, I could see it change into a cloud of whote before vapourising into nothingness.

I didnt want to go. Not at all.

But what choice did I have? None. Naught. Zero.

Everyone was relying on me. The Boy who Lived. Their savior. I couldn't let them down.

I wrapped my arms arlund my body for warmth. My skin felt like the surface of ice. Then suddenly I thought about what had happenned 1 year ago and scoulded myself. 'They're dead and buried, this is their one year anniversary, and you're only thinking about yourself!'

Then it was time to apparate.

I turned on my heel robotically and felt myself squeezed through a tight tube. The sensation, luckily, only lasted a few seconds, and soon I landed on the cobbled ground of Hogwarts.

We were early. There was no one to be seen. Obviously Hermione was looking around in the castle. I tugged on Ron's sleeve and he obediently came with me.

The castle felt eerie and silent. Dim candles were poor sources of light. I lit my wand. Ron did the same.

"She might be in the girl's dormitory," Ron suggested dully. I winced as memories came flooding back of the wretched staircase. I shook my head. Ron did the same.

"She might be in the library," Ron suggested. I was surprised: he had never eeally contributed much to discussions involving in-depth thinking. Now that was a real possibility.

But when we creeped into the library, feeling like intruders, there was no one there. We quickly left.

Fresh out of ideas, we went to the Quidditch Pitch. Ron was slightly more entusiastic about this idea, as was I.

The pitch had imploded during the battle. Bits of wood lay across the sooty green grass. I even saw a death eater mask in rubble.

And to this day, I still dont know why, but I could feel tears start making their way. I left them untouched.

At least they were warm.


	3. Ron

There was no noise to be heard.

Normally I would be the one to break the ice. The one to bring up a completely random topic. The one to make everyone laugh. But not today.

Today, you could cut the tension with a knife.

Hermione had already apparated to Hogwarts. I didn't dare trail after her. Temper's were running high today, and I knew Hermione would just love to throw a fit and release all her pent up anger and nervousness on me. I wouldn't.

The atmosphere stayed approximately even for a long time. We stayed in the same position. The silence stayed. The clock kept on ticking away. I wanted to smash it into tiny pieces, but I didn't want Mum's temper either. Her's was equal to Hermione's, and that's saying something!

Finally, it was time to go.

The chilly morning air came down on my skin like a ton of ice bricks. The frosty grass was soft under my numb feet. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry wrap his arms around his body. I put my hand against my frozen cheek and quickly decided against it. Instead, I turned on my heel and I was off.

The sickening sensation of apparation only lasted a few seconds. Soon I landed on solid (though slippery from ice) ground with a loud CRUNCH!

The early morning breeze blew onto my face. My breath formed a white cloud before dissapating. Harry tugged on my sleeve and I followed him into the castle robotically, like he was controlling me.

Hogwarts was cloaked in darkness, even though the sun was shining in the cloudless sky. The windows were all fogged over. Harry lit up his wand. I did the same.

"She might be in the girls dormitory" I felt my mouth form the words. Harry flinched. Ah, the staircase. Harry shook his head and I, not wanting to face the wooden planks of doom, did the same.

"She might be in the library" I heard myself say. Harry looked oddly surprised, but I didn't bother to interpret it. We slunk into the room. No one was there. We left.

Harry started walking in the direction of the Quidditch Pitch. My steps became faster. At least the pitch was familiar.

But what greeted us was not familiar. Random chunks of wood were scattered on the grass. The hoops had collapsed and separated into circular and straight pieces.

I could see tears running down Harry's face.

And I couldn't blame him.


End file.
